


I know the pathway to your heart

by deirdre_c



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bodyswap, M/M, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_c/pseuds/deirdre_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they’d started freshman year just a month ago, they’d been expecting a lot of strange things to happen. Strange was only natural when you attend college for people with superhuman Powers. So Jared had been able to convince Jensen that the whole trading-bodies episode was some kind of fluke, nothing to be worried about, nothing to report to their teachers</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know the pathway to your heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiana/gifts).



*****

Jensen wakes with a start. He surges up and somehow bangs his head on the ceiling before falling back onto the pillow. He rubs at the bump forming under Jared’s ridiculous mess of hair and curses like a motherfucker in Jared’s voice.

Because Jensen sleeps in the bottom bunk. 

This is the second time this has happened, waking up in their dorm room to find that Jared has done… _something_ in his sleep that caused them to actually switch bodies. The first time, last Sunday morning, they’d both freaked out, not knowing what caused it, not knowing if it was real or dangerous or permanent. But it only took a minute or so—after some less-than-dignified panic and arm-waving—just as soon as Jared took a breath and fucking tried concentrating, they’d switched back, Jensen’s head spinning with a weird combination of vertigo and déjà vu from seeing himself from the outside, trying to move inside someone else’s skin. 

When they’d started freshman year just a month ago, they’d been expecting a lot of strange things to happen. Strange was only natural when you attend college for people with superhuman Powers. So Jared had been able to convince Jensen that the whole trading-bodies episode was some kind of fluke, nothing to be worried about, nothing to report to their teachers. Jared had been more earnest, more desperate than Jensen had ever seen him, so he’d let Jared persuade him to wait and see. 

But now that it’s happened again? Time to seriously consider getting worried. 

Jensen peeks over the side rail of the bunk to look down at his own sleeping form. Either he or Jared had kicked off the blankets in his sleep, and Jensen has the sorry view of his face smooshed and drooling into the pillow, of arms and legs sprawled ungracefully in various directions, of skinny, pale shoulders and obnoxious freckles. He slumps back into Jared’s bed. Jensen knows he’s a pretty decent looking guy face-wise. He hooks up with comfortable regularity—although Jensen assumes this is due as much to his famous family name as to his own appeal. But Jared, well, he’s straight-up _hot_ , and this isn’t the first time Jensen’s wished he had a body like Jared’s. And, if he’s being completely honest, not the first time he’s wished he had Jared himself.

He absently reaches down to run a hand covetously over Jared’s six-pack abs, fingertips brushing the tickle of hair under Jared’s navel. It’s then that he squirms, achy and buzzing, and realizes that Jared’s got some morning wood going. 

He freezes, listening carefully for his own smooth breathing below, while debating several long moments over just how questionable it would be to have a quick peek. He and Jared have roomed together forever, from almost the moment twelve-year-old Jensen arrived at The Heroes’ Home, the state orphanage for kids who’d lost their parents in the Outlier Insurrection, Jared having landed there a couple of months earlier. The two of them had been fast friends from the get-go, every meal, every class, at night whispering in the dark, making plans for the day they’d discover they’d inherited Powers and could follow in their parents’ footsteps, protecting people from evil. Jared would say “we’re going to change the world together, too, aren’t we?” and Jensen would swear that they would. 

So you could say Jensen’s pretty familiar with Jared’s body, just from living in each other’s pockets. But there’s a difference between the skinny youngster Jared once was and the gorgeous guy he’s suddenly turned into. You’d better believe Jensen noticed that, this whole past summer before leaving for college, while Jensen had slept in until noon, Jared had been swimming, running, lifting at the gym, turning himself into a classic superhero hunk. And the spandex bodysuits they now wear for class in the school’s Battle Simulation Chamber don’t leave much to the imagination either. From what Jensen can tell from numerous discreet inspections, Jared appears to be quite… proportional. But there is still that nagging urge, just to _know_. After years of hearing Jared jerk off in the dark, Jensen just wishes he could see. Wishes he could stare instead of looking away politely as Jared slips into clothes after a shower. 

Jensen isn’t deluding himself. Jared is straight, at least based on what Sandy McCoy kiss-and-told back in high school. She’s the only person the dork has ever gone out with, and only because Jensen talked him into a double date with Jensen and whatever guy-of-the-week he’d been with at the time. But, it doesn’t matter. If Jensen fantasizes about climbing up into this bunk to join Jared in the middle of the night, well, what no one knows doesn’t hurt anyone. Plus, _Jared’s_ the one whose bizarre Power malfunction has landed Jensen in this body in the first place! Which means Jensen should feel no guilt at shoving down the sheet, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Jared’s impressively-tented boxers and lifting up to take a look.

 _Well, I’ll be goddamned_ , Jensen thinks. Because Jared’s even bigger than Jensen imagined. Bigger than any guy that Jensen’s been with. Thick _and_ long, and isn’t that fucking unfair, because Jensen’s never going to be the one to enjoy getting fucked deep and hard by it. He freezes again at the thought, more explicit than he’s ever allowed himself before.

He sneaks a hand into Jared’s boxers. Just for a second. Just one feel, just so he can remember it accurately, later. Jared’s circumcised, and Jensen slides his palm over the smooth, ruddy head, a few fat drops leaking out to slick the way. He shudders, suddenly gripping hard as sensation grips him, heat zagging across nerve endings radiating out from Jared’s groin. It’s a familiar feeling, yet utterly new and different in this body. 

And Jensen’s about to come, right now, he’s right on the edge. Just from that one touch. Just from knowing what Jared feels like with a hand on his dick. 

He yanks his hand out and rolls over, pressing Jared’s erection firmly into the mattress, muffling a groan into a pillow that’s heavy with Jared’s musky sleep-smell. He can’t let himself. How would he explain it to Jared when he wakes up and they have to switch back? It’s just too embarrassing, too private, even for them. It’s one thing to joke around; it’s another to have to seriously discuss Jensen’s experience with Jared’s jizz. 

Oh god, he’s got to stop thinking about it. Jensen squeezes his eyes shut so hard he sees splotches of color dance. He forces himself to think of the most unarousing things he can: Professor Beaver in a g-string, Osric heaving his guts out in the boys’ bathroom after attending his first keg party last week, Heyerdahl lifting a school bus and tossing it into a crowd of innocent people. 

Jensen jerks his mind away from that last particular nightmare, but the brief memory is more than enough to cool him. He shifts around a bit more to get Jared adjusted, then sits up, more carefully this time. He swings out over the side of the bed, Jared’s legs so long there’s barely any drop, and lets himself down to the floor with a thunk. 

“Hey, handsome,” Jensen says, kicking the bedframe next to his own head. He snags one of Jared’s t-shirts draped over the back of the desk chair and draws it on, Jared’s stupid, silky hair all in his eyes. “Rise and shine.”

*****

Jensen’s back in his own body, sitting on their scratchy, school-issue couch. A bit of residual frustration from not getting off must have transferred with him though, because, despite Jared’s apologetic, hang-dog face, he snaps, “Screw this. You have to go see Dr. Rhodes. This morning. Right now.”

At orientation, the whole freshman class had sat through a presentation from Dr. Rhodes about the school’s Counseling and Power Psychology Services, and both he and Jared, as students without any parental support, had been automatically signed up for monthly appointments. Jensen’s first visit had been uneventful; Jared said his had, too.

“We talked about this,” Jared replies placatingly. “I can’t tell her. What if something’s wrong with me? What if they kick me out?”

“Man, the last thing they’re going to do is kick you out. You’re exhibiting a Power I’ve barely even heard of! I imagine they’re going to want to know how the hell you’re doing it.” People born with Powers are pretty rare, and the majority of them are Kinetics like Jensen, who can move objects with their minds. The rest tend to be Shields, able to project a force-field around themselves and others, like Jared. Jensen thinks back to when the two of them manifested within days of each other last fall, both giddy with excitement that having complimentary Powers meant they’d be able to work as a team someday, the future they’d always dreamed about as kids.

In addition to Kinetics and Shields, though, there is a tiny fraction of Powers called Outliers: those whose Powers are distinctive, unusual, unpredictable. That handful of Outliers tended to make some people in the Powered community nervous, and lots of Normals, too. And not simply because of their association with Heyerdahl’s bid to destroy the Powers’ Leadership Council just a few years ago.

“I’ve been doing some research.” Jared starts to pace the tiny patch of floor space between beds and desks, barely enough room to turn around. “There hasn’t been an Outlier registered as a Swapper in 12 years, 19 more before that. And, as far as I can tell, there’s _never_ been evidence of someone with two different Powers.”

“And yet, here you are,” Jensen says soothingly. If Jared’s going to work himself up, Jensen’s going to need to be the voice of calm and reason. Jared’s special? Fine. That’s not news to Jensen, even if he wasn’t expecting this particular expression of it.

“But an Outlier, Jensen? I don’t want to turn into something evil.”

“They’re not all evil,” Jensen insists.

Jared whirls to face him. “They killed my parents! They helped kill yours!”

“Yeah,” he narrows his eyes. “I’m keenly aware of that fact. But those were just a few bad ones. Not all Outliers are like them.”

“How can you be sure? Name one Outlier you even know.”

“My mom,” Jensen says, pulling a trump card.

“That doesn’t count,” Jared huffs. “She wasn’t a Power, she was the White Witch. She came from a completely different dimension than ours.” 

“And she wasn’t evil.” 

Jared’s voice rises desperately. “She had your dad!”

“And you’ll have me!” Jensen matches his volume. “You think I’m gonna let you go Dark Side? Ever?” Okay, time to rein things in. Jensen slumps back into the couch cushions, shrugging one shoulder. “Besides, you’re too lame to be a villain.”

Jared’s chin juts forward, his jaw clenching tight, chewing over further arguments. Jensen holds himself still, willing Jared to be reasonable. “Jared, the teachers are going to find out eventually. You can’t keep this a secret. You’re swapping with me without trying, without even being conscious, and that’s really, really… odd. You need to talk to someone and figure out what this is.” 

Jared lets his head fall into his hands. “I know. I know you’re right.” Then Jensen thinks he hears Jared mutter, low and miserable, “You don’t deserve this.” But before Jensen can protest that it’s not about _him_ , Jared sighs, then leans down to grab his backpack, swinging it over one shoulder and heading out.

“Wait,” Jensen says, getting to his feet. 

Jared stops in the doorway to look back. “What?”

“I don’t have class ‘til nine. I’ll walk to CAPPS with you.” He reaches out a hand toward his own bag on the other side of the room and it zips through the air to him. “Let’s go.”

*****

After Dr. Rhodes’ door closes behind Jared, Jensen takes a seat in one of the low, deep chairs in the waiting area that CAPPS shares with the infirmary. The chair’s meant to be comfortable, but to Jensen it feels almost like he’s sinking, like it’s absorbing him. He heaves himself back up, and circles the wood-paneled room, inspecting the portraits on the walls of famous alumni—both Kinetics and Shields—who fought against Heyerdahl during the Uprising. There’s Janssen, of course, and Welling. Alba. Evans. Doherty. Some of the older Powers were there, too, like Spacek, Hamill, and Reeve. Finally, Jensen comes to a picture of his father, Alan Ackles. With his movie-star looks and self-mocking twinkle in his eyes, he’s younger than Jensen remembers him, the picture probably taken when he wasn’t much older than Jensen is now.

A familiar, leaden sense of longing and grief presses down on Jensen’s chest. He wonders what other people see when they look at this portrait. Wonders what they see when they look at Jensen. If all they see is his dad.

He turns away, thinks of waiting awhile longer, but figures it’s unlikely Jared will be done here before Jensen’s first class starts. He pulls out his phone and texts Jared to meet him on the quad once his appointment is done.

*****

He has no idea what’s taking Jared so long. Class let out an hour ago, it’s almost noon, and Jensen’s still sitting here on the bench under the giant oak that shades the front of the dorm. He tries to get some reading done for his Introductory Trajectories class, but he can’t concentrate, the figures blurring together into knots.

When he looks up, finally, there’s Jared, striding toward the bench, holding out a coffee cup like a peace offering. 

Jensen grabs it from Jared’s hand. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you text? What did she say?” He shuts up long enough to take a sip, just now realizing he never ate breakfast. Perfection bursts over his tongue. Of course it’s a grande half-skinny half-1% split quad shot mocha latte with whip. Fucking Jared and his fucking memory for Jensen’s favorite. How is he supposed to stay mad?

He scans Jared’s expression over the rim of his cup, and can tell right away the news isn’t good. “So?”

“You were right. They’re not kicking me out.”

“And?” Jensen says, knowing Jared’s softening him up.

“Well, they want me to move to the faculty residence.” 

“What?”

“Just temporarily,” Jared amends. “There’s another Outlier rooming there, too, a junior named Genevieve, and they… they want us to both be living in the same place.” _To keep an eye on them,_ Jensen suspects, and can tell by the twist of Jared’s mouth that he’s thinking the same thing, too. “Just until I get this new power under control, then I can concentrate on my Shield studies again.”

Jared shifts uneasily, cracking the knuckles of his right hand out of habit. 

“What else?” Jensen asks. 

“They don’t want me to see you again until at least the end of term.”

It’s a shot out of left field, blindsiding him. “What do you mean ‘not see me’? Like, at all? Why?”

“I’m not sure,” Jared says. “Something about staying away from triggers or isolation being good for control or something.”

But Jared’s a crap liar. Always has been. And right now he’s holding something back, Jensen knows it. His face might as well be a window. And that conjures in Jensen’s mind the image of a cottage dark at night, high on a hill, the glow of a fire shining through glittering panes of glass, beckoning, welcoming with its warmth. Okay, not really where he meant to go with that metaphor, but that was his Jared all right.

Jensen decides not to push. He’ll have time to ferret it out of Jared later, when Jared’s not looking as if he’s about to drink poison or throw himself off a high cliff. “Look it’s only a couple of months, right?” he says, trying for bright side. “If you quit slacking off and get this all straightened out, the Dream Team will be back together before you know it.”

“Gonna change the world together, aren’t we?” Jared replies, reciting their old saying once again. But there’s a little quaver in his voice at the end that elicits a matching clench in Jensen’s gut. 

“We sure as hell are,” Jensen says. Sure as hell.

*****

Jared moves out, and the dorm room is quiet without him. Where before it had been a refuge from the stress and newness of college life, now it’s just… empty. Most days Jensen grabs a pizza on the way back from class or a training session, as usual, but eating while watching a movie on the couch isn’t the same without Jared leaning over him to grab two pieces at a time or adding inappropriate dialogue at appropriate moments.

They text constantly, stupid little things that make him feel normal, like they’re about to see each other in a few minutes or something:

>   
> _I’m gonna need a whole 6-pk of Mountain Dew if I’m going to get this paper written tonight._
> 
> _learned how to make an umbrella with shield power today. an umbrella, how cool is that? with me as your partner, no more raindrops on your head, Butch_
> 
> _Zeppelin on shuffle. Life is good._
> 
> _i just emailed you a picture of a cat in a top hat and monocle GAZE ON IT AND DESPAIR_
> 
> _Ferris is really riding my ass this week over that precision control test._
> 
> _sounds kinky_
> 
> _Shut up._
> 
> _day 23: not evil yet. gen though? definitely evil. she stole my last pack of gummis._
> 
> _Miss me yet?_
> 
> _hell no asshole_  
> 

But it’s definitely not the same as having Jared with him, nearby.

One Friday evening, Jensen finds himself sitting there staring at his phone, randomly waiting for Jared’s next text, and can’t believe how pitiful he’s become in only a few weeks on his own. He shoves the phone into his pocket and heads out of the dorm, wandering toward the two upperclassmen’s halls beyond the library at the other end of the quad.

There’s music blaring from a first floor hall, and Jensen walks in, finds people milling in and out of a dozen rooms. He already knows a bunch of sophomores and a couple juniors from his advanced TK workshop, so he looks around for a familiar face. He hears someone call out, “Jensen Ackles?” 

He turns and some guy he’s never met hands him a red plastic cup full of beer and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey! I heard you’d started school here this year. It’s cool to meet you. I’m Christian.” The guy raises his voice over the din of the party and yells, “Hey y’all! Check it out. Alan Ackles’ son is here!’

Jensen takes a sip and tries not to make a face at the still-unfamiliar bitterness. Most of the time he hates it when his reputation precedes him. Tonight, though? He’ll take it.

He starts going out most nights, not just weekends, weekdays too. There’s always something going on around campus, and Jensen manages to keep occupied. And if his grades slip a bit, well, he’s not going to have to suffer through a lecture from stern parents, is he? 

One night he spots Katie Cassidy at a party. She’s a senior Kinetic and supposedly one of the most powerful at school right now—a title Jensen already has his eye on. He wouldn’t normally have much to say to her, but she’s a TA in Pairs Battle Simulation and Jared mentioned more than a month ago that Professor Richings assigned Katie to him as a new training partner. Then, he never mentioned her again. Seems weird, like a weird combination. Jensen’s been training with Adrianne, who’s nice and all and turning into a pretty good Shield, but she’s no Jared. And it hits him kinda hard, right then, that Jensen hasn’t heard more stories about pairs training from Jared.

Well, there’s one way to find out more.

Jensen wades through the crowd to find Katie. He waits until she turns away from chatting with another guy and slides up. “So, how is the training going with Jared?” he asks with a smile. He doesn’t bother introducing himself. He’s pretty sure she’ll recognize him, even if he is just a freshman. “How does it feel to do the body-swapping thing?”

Katie looks him up and down. “Huh. You must be Jensen.” He draws himself up a little taller. “Training’s fine,” she says shortly. “Swapping? We don’t do that. Turns out the only person he’s been able to do that with is you.”

That rocks Jensen, more than a little. Jared hadn’t mentioned anything about it. “Well,” he covers. “We’ve been friends for a long time. Maybe he just, I don’t know, knows me best? But,” he says reassuringly, “I’m sure you guys make a great team. Um, are you a couple too?” Jensen mentally slaps his forehead. _Oh, very suave. Really._

“No.”

“Well, I’ve been hearing a lot about Genevieve,” he soldiers on. “I know they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Do you know her?” He fumbles for the right words, an approach that’ll encourage Katie to cut loose with another tidbit of information about Jared. 

Katie cuts loose all right, says disgustedly, “You’re a fucking idiot.” She takes another swig of her drink, gives him another long, enigmatic look. “Look, Jared and I are just friends. Jared and Gen too. But how are you and Kane doing? Or is it you and Manns? Or maybe my boy Amell over there?” She jerks her chin toward where Stephen’s leaning on the wall on the other side of the common room, watching him. He nods when they look his way. “Make it official with anyone yet? Because everyone knows you’re screwing around. _Everyone._ ”

Jensen bristles. So what if he’s hooked up a few times? It’s like the whole campus is having sex, that’s what college is for, right? Yet here’s Katie giving _him_ shit for it? “It’s nothing serious.”

“I’ll bet.”

Jensen chugs down the rest of his beer, flashing the empty cup at Katie as an excuse to end this excruciating conversation. “Look, I gotta go. Tell Jared hey. Tell him I miss—I miss seeing him around.”

It turns out Katie’s bitchface isn’t permanent after all, but Jensen’s not sure he likes this expression any better. “I’ll tell him.” She puts a hand on his arm as he turns away. “He’d be right here if they’d let him, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Then he stumbles back to the freshman dorm alone, wishing he’d never spoken to Katie. Their exchange plays on repeat in his head and it’s all so _stupid_. Begging for scraps of information from strangers, over-analyzing Jared’s brief texts to try to tell what’s really going on with him, the big news all kept secret. None of this would be happening if Jared hadn’t had to move out. It takes Jensen three tries to get his key in the lock, and then he bangs his shin on the desk chair in the dark, falling forward into his bed, not even bothering to shuck off his shoes or jeans. So what if Jared’s got Outlier Powers? Fuck, Jensen’s the one with a dimension-hopping mom, _he_ should be the freak of the freshman class. God knows, if Jensen was the Swapper, he’d go and switch with Jared right now, just to have the chance to fucking _see_ him for a minute. There’s a small corner of his brain that knows this makes no sense, but Jensen’s drunk and miserable enough to ignore it in favor of some good, old-fashioned wallowing. Then sleep.

*****

It’s December, it’s Wednesday, it’s 8 p.m., and Jensen is studying for his last exam before the end of term. That’s when the news breaks: Heyerdahl has escaped from the purportedly inescapable stasis he’d been placed in seven years ago, after his trial for terrorism, sedition, mass murder, and a dozen other heinous charges.

Jensen’s inbox is immediately slammed with emails and the phone starts ringing nonstop, but he doesn’t want to talk. He just sits in front of his computer and clicks methodically from website to website, sifting through the first official updates and the flood of random rumors. Every place he looks, there’s video footage and images from Dallas eight years ago: the legion of Powers defending against attacks by the Outliers; the wholesale slaughter of Powers and Normals alike; Jensen’s parents luring the rogue Power, Heyerdahl, into the distant desert for a final showdown, their ultimate sacrifice and Heyerdahl’s capture. Jensen clicks through each site as quickly as he can, barely registering the sound of other students gathering in the hall outside and on the quad below his window, their voices rising and falling with alarm. 

There’s a knock on his door, but he ignores it. 

“Jensen,” a deep voice calls. “It’s Dean Morgan.”

Jensen gets up, his joints creaking like an 80-year-old’s, and he turns the knob, opening the door to the Dean’s solemn face. Jensen hasn’t seen Morgan in years. When he was a kid, Morgan had him brought to campus, right after he lost his parents. He’d been a colleague of theirs, a friend even, and had spent a day with Jensen, talking about Alan and d’Onna, and their shared past. Jensen’d only seen the Dean in passing a few times since starting freshman year, trying to stay under the radar, just a regular student, but he remembers Morgan well from that day.

“I just wanted to personally check in on you tonight,” the Dean says. “Make sure you know the Council and rest of the community of Powers is doing everything we can right now to make sure Heyerdahl is apprehended.” 

“I know, sir. Thank you for coming by so quickly when you must be busy.” Jensen doesn’t step aside to let him in.

“You’re right, I’m actually on my way to the Capitol right now with most of the other faculty,” Morgan admits. “They’ve called all of the inactive Powers back into duty for the duration of this emergency.” 

Jensen has often heard that Heyerdahl was—is—one of the most powerful Kinetics in recorded history, and he’s glad to hear the Council isn’t taking him lightly, even if he no longer has an army of supporters behind him. Jensen’s tempted to volunteer to go with Morgan, but he doesn’t bother, knows his skills aren’t worth anything. Not yet, at least.

“Good luck, sir. And—” He’s not sure how it will come across, but Jensen says it anyway. “Be careful.”

Morgan nods and turns on his heel, Jensen closing the door again on the curious faces of his hallmates who’d been observing the encounter wide-eyed.

He goes back to the desk, but doesn’t get back online, just hunches over, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at his clasped hands. He’s not sure how long he sits there, only a few minutes, he thinks, before there’s another knock. He’s pretty confident it’s not the Dean again.

“Go away,” he barks. 

But even as he says it, the door is swinging open and Jared’s walking in, pulling his key from the lock and kicking it closed behind him.

Jensen rises. “Are you allowed to be here?” 

“Fuck ‘allowed,’” Jared says, coming right up, his hands reaching for Jensen, settling warm and firm on his shoulders. “You okay?”

And Jensen doesn’t know where the impulse comes from, but he doesn’t hesitate, just steps into Jared’s space and wraps him up in a hug, his chin barely tucking over the top of Jared’s shoulder, his hands fisting in the back of Jared’s shirt. Jared falters for a second, Jensen feels hands hover uncertain over his back, but then Jared returns the hug, squeezing hard enough to take Jensen’s breath away. They stand there for long seconds, the pulse in Jared’s neck thumping strong against Jensen’s cheek, and suddenly all of the anxiety that had been riding him over Heyerdahl’s escape melts away.

He fights the stupid little frisson in his belly that sparks when he registers the press of Jared’s broad chest and the delicious, homey smell of him. Jensen cracks one eye open to find a vague blurry haze surrounding them. “It’s going to be fine, you know,” he mutters. “They’re going to catch him.”

“I know,” Jared whispers back.

“Then why do you have a Shield up?” Jensen teases, and steps back, giving Jared’s shoulder a friendly shove, not wanting Jared to feel how Jensen’s cock is perking up, the bulge probably visible in his ratty sweatpants. Great, the minute he sees Jared after weeks apart and he has no more control over his body than Jared has of his Power. His _Powers_ , Jensen amends. And wouldn’t that be a bitch, for Jared to accidentally swap them while Jensen’s conspicuously hard from feeling up his best friend.

Jared looks around, blushing. “Sorry. Just—” The Shield encircling them swiftly sputters and fades. “—just a stupid reaction.” He gazes everywhere but Jensen, which is just as well, because Jensen feels like his own face is burning hot. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Of course Jensen hasn’t changed a thing since Jared moved out, all of Jared’s 70s rock band posters still litter the walls, plastic milk crates still sit stuffed with their sports gear jumbled together. Jared hadn’t taken much at all with him, betting on the fact they would actually let him come back. But there are a few strings of tiny colored Christmas lights draped over their windowsills and lining the bunk, a red fuzzy Santa hat perched jauntily on the stuffed moose’s head Jared had hung on the wall when they moved in. “Nah. Beth and Aldis snuck in here and did all this last week.”

A small smile plays on Jared’s lips, and he plops down into his old desk chair, running his long fingers along the edge of the desk like he missed the feel of it. “So you haven’t put up the tree yet?”

Over the years at the Home, the two of them had come up with a whole slew of stupid traditions for celebrating the holidays to make up for the old ones that had been taken away. Sometimes they’d gotten the other kids involved, but their little artificial tree with Jared’s hand-made ornaments and two presents under it on Christmas morning? That was just theirs, without fail.

“Dude! Of course not,” Jensen huffs. “Can’t put up the tree without you. All the stuff’s in storage down in the basement, though. Ready to go.”

“Okay.” Jared says, grinning wider. “What about this weekend?”

“This weekend it is.”

Heyerdahl will be recaptured, Jared will move back in. It’s going to be fine. Jensen knows.

*****

Word spreads through email that the rest of exams are canceled and the semester is officially over. The campus empties out the next morning, everyone urgently heading home for the break except for a spare half-dozen or so students, including him and Jared, who have no where else to go.

By Saturday, the faculty still haven’t returned. There’s no one in the administration office to give Jared the green light to move back into the freshman dorm, so he decides to stay put, telling Jensen that Genevieve is remaining in the faculty hall during the holidays, too, and he’d feel bad leaving her all alone. Jensen sulks a bit over being abandoned for Genevieve’s sake, but sucks it up, choosing to believe what Katie told him, and that Jared’s just being a good guy. Not that it’s any of his business.

Jensen rubs sleep out of his eyes, hurrying to piss and brush his teeth and pull on a pair of jeans. Jared had texted him an hour ago, telling him to meet up at the west gate and they’d walk into town to find breakfast. But just as he’s toeing into his boots, the campus alarm klaxons erupt into a barrage of shrill sirens. The hair on the back of Jensen’s neck springs to attention, and he knows immediately, this is no drill. 

He bursts out of his room and, even though he won’t start his flying classes until sophomore year, Jensen throws himself over the rail and down the stairwell anyway, barely managing to levitate himself enough not to break a leg at the bottom. He hits the ground running, pounding out the front door of the dorm and racing toward the library, where the emergency vaults are located. He’s panting, but it doesn’t feel like he takes a breath until he finally sees Jared, already there on the front steps. He’s standing with Danneel and Osric, and there’s Genevieve, and another guy Jensen doesn’t recognize. Jared waves to Jensen as he approaches. 

“We’re just waiting for Adrianne and Felicia,” Danneel calls out over the sound of the sirens as soon as Jensen’s within earshot. “That’s all of us students still here on campus, any maintenance staff wouldn’t be here this early on a weekend. We’ll give them a few more minutes, but then we’ll have to head into the lock-down area inside.” She throws up a solid Shield around the whole group, and Jensen’s glad at least one senior was still on campus. 

“Do we know what it is?” he asks, but his eyes lock with Jared’s, and Jensen sees that he also suspects it must have something to do with Heyerdahl.

“Hey, Jensen, right?” the other guy says, and Jensen nods. “Malik,” he says by way of introduction. “Last year we had a tornado touch down a few towns over and the alarms went off then, too. Barely enough room for everyone to scramble into the vaults.” As one, they all look up, but all they see is crisp blue sky. 

Then Osric shouts, “There they are,” pointing across the quad at two figures sprinting toward them. 

“Okay, that’s it. We can’t wait any longer. Let’s go,” Danneel orders, and drops her Shield as Felicia and Adrianne dash up the stairs to join the group. 

But just as soon as the Shield goes down, Jensen sees his friends thrown to the ground in all directions, bowling pins under a hard strike, and simultaneously feels himself yanked into air like a marionette on strings. He tries to push back with his own Power, but he might as well be pushing against a steel wall. The klaxons overhead all cut off mid-peal, and in the sudden silence a voice he’s only heard before on television documentaries, and in his nightmares, sounds from behind them. 

“Not so fast, kids,” drawls Heyerdahl. “I just need a few minutes to talk to young Mister Ackles here.”

The huge oak doors to the library fly open and Jensen is swept inside behind Heyerdahl, who strides through the main foyer and turns into the first nearby office. Jensen struggles, but can do nothing other than be pulled along, toes brushing the carpet, until Heyerdahl plasters him up against the far wall, all his muscles frozen. Through the office’s still-open door, Jensen can see Jared and the others rushing into the library, taking cover behind the reference desk. Jensen tries to scream at them to run, to wait for help, but he doesn’t have time before Heyerdahl steps up into his face, blocking everything else out, cold, sunken eyes boring a hole right through him. 

“Ah, Jensen. Look how you’ve grown. You couldn’t possibly remember, but your parents introduced us when you were just a baby, when your father and I were on the Council together.” He smiles in a singularly dreadful way, the gaunt planes of his face like icy cliffs. “That was all before the more recent unpleasantness, of course.”

Jensen wants to fling himself just a few inches forward and turn that smile into pulp with his fists, wants to use his Power to rip Heyerdahl limb from limb. Hell, he’d settle for being able to spit in his face. Instead, all he can manage from underneath the pressure bearing down on his chest is to grit out, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Alas,” Heyerdahl replies, “I don’t have time for a cordial chat. All I need from you is a tiny bit of information, and then we’re done here. Perhaps a traditional monologue will serve. ” 

He turns away and stalks across the office, hands clasped behind his back, addressing Jensen, but raising his voice toward the six figures still huddled together near the front doors. “As you probably know, your lovely mother’s Powers were not inborn, like ours, but derived from the amulet she brought with her when she arrived here from across the void. It’s a powerful weapon. One that defeated me once, not without cost.” He turns his head and smirks at Jensen over his shoulder. “Most of the cost borne by you.” He turns back to Jared and the others, pinning them like bugs under his gaze. “But since I am currently without many weapons to fight off my pursuers, I need it. And you are going to tell me where it is. We can do this indirectly…” Heyerdahl casually gestures and Jensen sees a row of display cases go tumbling down over the group outside, ricocheting off of Danneel’s Shield and onto the floor. “Or directly.” He turns back to Jensen and a small _crack_ echoes in the room. Jensen screams in surprise and agony as pain rockets up his left arm. He looks down and nearly retches when he sees his pinkie twisted at an unnatural near-right angle from the rest of his hand.

Jensen closes his eyes against the pain and when he opens them again, Heyerdahl is back in his face. “I don’t have much time, Jensen,” he hisses. “Your teachers and many other foolhardy Powers are rushing here as we speak.” Jensen nearly gags again as Heyerdahl reaches up and cups Jensen’s chin, stroking a thumb across his cheekbone. “Ah, you look very much like your mother. Don’t make me ruin this pretty face, too.” Jensen can feel the press of Heyerdahl’s thumbnail against his skin. “Tell me where the amulet is, or I’ll take an eye next.”

Jensen draws a deep breath in, tries to prepare himself, when his stomach flips, dips, and suddenly he’s standing out in the library entrance, Danneel and Osric each holding an arm, yelling at him, “Don’t! Don’t!”

He blinks, can see through the door, thirty feet away, Heyerdahl with his hands on Jensen’s face, and it dawns on him what Jared’s done. 

“No,” he breathes.

*****

Jensen rounds frantically at the group gathered around him. “Jesus Christ, why would you let him do that?”

“We tried to stop him,” Malik insists. 

Jensen pulls at Danneel’s grip still on Jared’s—his— arm. “Fuck this, I’m going in there.”

“Wait,” Adrianne says. “Jared had a plan.” 

Osric chimes in. “He said you know where the amulet is, maybe even know how to use it yourself. If you get it, bring it back, the amulet can help us hold Heyerdahl here until help arrives.”

Jensen snarls, “It’s in the Dean’s office. We don’t have time.”

“I can get us there,” Genevieve offers in a quiet voice. “Didn’t Jared tell you? I’m a Porter.”

Jensen stares for a second—he didn’t know—then looks around at the rest of them. None of them look surprised, but none look confident. He glances over at the office. Heyerdahl has backed off, listening to something Jared’s saying as he stalls for time. But then he sees his head thrown back against the wall and another scream, his own voice rippling savagely across the library. _That should be me, it should be me,_ Jensen’s heart protests. 

Jensen doesn’t know what to do, there’s just no time. But a frontal attack now would be suicide for all of them. The only path he has is Jared’s.

He turns to Genevieve. “Let’s go.”

She steps up and wraps her arms around his torso, so tiny next to Jared’s bulk. “Hang on,” she says, and he holds her close.

“You know where we’re going?” he asks as an after-thought.

“I hope so,” she replies, and then Jensen feels what it’s like to teleport. 

When Jared swapped their bodies, it felt like a rollercoaster drop. With Genevieve it’s a fighter plane in a nose-dive. Between one breath and the next they plummet into Morgan’s office, Jensen staggering, nearly falling over, woozy and nauseous. While Genevieve slumps against the Dean’s massive desk, Jensen darts his gaze back and forth, struggling to remember everything about the time he’d been here, years before. He gestures wildly, and a bookcase topples away from the wall, he sends the one next to it flying, too, and there it is, the hidden compartment. Everything’s a blur, Jensen’s too frantic for finesse. With a blast of Power he rips the plaster right off the wall and reaches in, shoving aside folders, boxes, until his hand falls on the white silken pouch the Dean had shown him as a child. 

He turns it over, and his mother’s amulet slithers out into Jared’s wide palm. He tugs it over his head to fall heavy against his chest. 

Genevieve hasn’t moved, panting and pale, and Jensen doesn’t stop to wonder what happens if she doesn’t have the mojo to get them back, just sweeps her up into Jared’s arms like a bride. “Go,” he demands.

She wraps her arms around his neck, the amulet sliding across her cheek like a caress, and the room disappears. 

They land back in the library in the midst of a furious battle. Chairs and books and light fixtures and computer monitors fly through the air as Felicia and Osric use whatever is not nailed down to try to defend against similar missiles aimed at their hiding spot. Jensen can see Adrianne and Malik struggling to maintain a small area of Shield in front and above of them. Danneel sprawls, hopefully only knocked out, on the ground at their feet.

Jensen practically tosses Genevieve down on the floor next to her and, placing one hand on the counter, vaults over the reference desk and charges toward where Heyerdahl stands in the door of the office. Jensen spares a quick glance behind, searching for his own face, and there Jared is, looking like a 10-round boxer, one eye bruised and his mouth bloody, but apparently still all in one piece. Jared jerks his chin up at Jensen in a _go get ‘em_ motion, and he sees the air start to shimmer in front of Jared. He marvels that Jared can manage any kind of Shield at this point, but then he has no more attention to spare, because Heyerdahl has spotted him.

It strikes Jensen right then that this is when he’s supposed to produce some kind of magic out of the amulet, but his mind is a terrifying blank. His mom knew hundreds of spells by heart—defensive and offensive, grandiose and commonplace— Jensen had heard her recite them his whole life, and all he had to do was come up with _one_. 

Desperately, he reaches up to clasp his hand around the tiny metal pendant, and a blaze like a rush of Power, but so very much not, sweeps through him. “Har tel’ahn,” he hears himself intone with Jared’s voice, speaking in his mother’s native language. “S’mural vinn al’arn n’halla.”

Light flares from inside his fist, and between him and Heyerdahl springs up a circular portal, a door with no depth, swimming white and silver. It’s a gate to another dimension, maybe to his mother’s homeworld or to somewhere beyond, Jensen doesn’t even know, had called up that incantation from the murky depths of memory. It sits there, beckoning, but otherwise useless. Heyerdahl’s face twists into a triumphant grin, and he holds out both hands, freezing everything in the room in place, detritus from the fight hovering still in midair, Jensen’s friends’ Shields blown away.

“I don’t know who you are,” Heyerdahl starts toward him, “but I will have that amulet. Give it to me. Now.” 

Jensen can’t move, can’t speak. As Heyerdahl approaches, anguish flows through him, dark and raw. He’s no hero after all, couldn’t save himself or Jared or their friends. Oh, depending on their enemy’s whim, they still might survive this moment, but Heyerdahl will walk away with his mother’s most precious gift and use it to wreak havoc on Powers and Normals alike.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen sees movement. It’s Jared, a thin but steady layer of Shield protecting him from the inexorable hold the Kinetic has on the rest of them. Heyerdahl would not have expected Jensen to have such a Power, must not have figured out that it was Jared Swapped into the office. 

Jensen’s gut turns to ice as he sees Jared run at Heyerdahl from behind, barreling into him like a linebacker, propelling them both headlong toward the portal. The collision breaks Heyerdahl’s concentration and Jensen’s free again, but it’s too late. Like a camera flash, the gate bursts with light as Heyerdahl and Jared hit the plane of it. 

“No,” Jensen screams, and he drops the amulet, stretching his arms toward Jared, reaching out with every ounce of Power he has and _grabbing_ him, yanking Jared back into the library, even as Heyerdahl vanishes from sight.

Jensen’s own body hurtles toward him, and he has no Power left to stop it. He braces his feet for the impact and then pulls Jared down on top of him trying to break the fall, the two of them tumbling head over heels backward in an awkward bundle, knocking against chairs and desks until they slide to rest nearly at Felicia and Osric’s feet. 

Fuck, Jensen is one gigantic ball of pain, but he’s never felt better in his life. He quickly looks over at Jared. Jared’s unconscious, but Jensen sees his chest is moving up and down with shallow breaths and all of Jensen’s various limbs are still attached to the body.

Looks like they won.

*****

It’s Jensen’s third night alone in the infirmary, and he can’t sleep. The others, even Jared, had only suffered minor injuries, mostly contusions and exhaustion from over-extending their Powers, during the encounter with Heyerdahl. They were released the next day. But it turns out Jensen’s body, particularly once Jared had taken over, had suffered a severe beating, and the school’s medical staff insisted he stay on for monitoring and IV fluids and general pampering as the hero of the day.

And wasn’t that the greatest feeling? They’d done it, the two of them. Yes, the others had helped. Certainly without Genevieve, or Danneel, they’d never have made it out alive. But it was him and Jared who’d taken on Heyerdahl and not only lived to tell the tale, but _defeated_ the bastard. Some of the Council Powers had already been in to interview Jensen several times about the amulet, the portal, and where Heyerdahl might be now. But all that matters to Jensen is that they beat him, and they did it all by themselves, and Jared’s freaky Swapping Power played a huge enough role that they’ll never find a reason to send him away or say that they couldn’t work together as an ordinary paired team of Powers. 

Speaking of Jared’s freaky Powers, Jensen still has too many unanswered questions. He wants to know what Jared had been doing that all those weeks, living under the teachers’ thumbs, working with Katie, with Genevieve, instead of with him. 

As Jensen lies trapped in bed, brooding over the things he doesn’t know, the night nurse quietly slips into the infirmary, pulling a cart behind her. Through the open door Jensen spies Dr. Rhodes’ office across the hall. An awful idea grips him, which he immediately shoves aside. But it eats at him, doesn’t let him sleep, and finally, in the darkest part of the night, he rolls out of bed and steals across the hall. 

He enters Rhodes’ darkened office cautiously. On previous visits, he’s eyed the tall columns of locked file cabinets standing sentry against one wall, curious about all they hold. He has imagined the folders inside growing thicker, papers with her tiny hand-written words multiplying, expanding, until they burst the metal seams of the drawers, spilling everyone's secrets out onto the floor.

Jensen’s not sure his control over his Power is fine enough to pick the lock, but he focuses as tightly as he can, peering at the tiny mechanism on the cabinet where he’s seen Rhodes place newer files. He hears a sharp _click_ , and he reaches out to draw open the top drawer. The As are first, and he guesses his own file is among them, but he already knows what that file says. It’s not the one he’s here for.

He crouches down next to the second drawer from the bottom, opening it and rifling through one-handed, the last two fingers of his left hand—one he’d felt broken and one Jared had endured—splinted together and immobile. He finds the file with _PADALECKI_ typed on the label and slides it out, taking it over to the desk and taking the chance of switching on the small, curve-necked lamp. 

He flips though papers until he finds one with the most recent date on it. In the doctor’s handwriting, Jensen reads:

> Still no progress via the lab on verifying a genetic foundation for Jared’s secondary Power. Based on his most recent scores in the classroom setting, Jared’s primary Power, Shielding, tests at or above normal range of ability, so no interference from the secondary Power is detected so far.
> 
> In terms of the secondary Power, I reviewed with Jared during this session the case studies of three prior known Swappers. He agreed that the description of the one from 1977, wherein the Swapper had difficulty controlling her power when in proximity to her sexual partner, and the one from 1954, wherein two previously Normal individuals both manifested Swapping abilities after their marriage, may be applicable to himself. He then revealed that he has both intense romantic feelings and sexual desire toward his classmate, Jensen Ackles (see Ackles casefile number 13662), who is the only person Jared has either voluntarily or involuntarily exercised his secondary Power upon, aside from myself, briefly, during our first session on this subject (see Padalecki casefile number 44571). According to Jared, this attraction is unreciprocated by Jensen.
> 
> Whether the emotional component Jared has introduced parallels the experiences of the prior known Swappers is unclear at this time, however this throws into new light the decision made in September (see Padalecki casefile number 44597) to separate Jared and Jensen, as there was concern what danger Jared’s secondary Power would pose to unwilling subjects. More in-depth research on this topic is certainly called for. At this time, I would not recommend that Jared re-engage with Jensen, until it is determined that there are no adverse residual effects of Swapping, or until such time as Jared can positively demonstrate full control of the Power.
> 
> Full transcript, attached.  
> 

Jensen hastily turns to the next page and crouches closer, drinking in every word Jared had said. Then he slumps back in the chair, stunned.

It seems incredible to say it, even inside his head, but Jared is in love with him.

Jensen had thought that nothing would ever come close—never get within a million fucking _miles_ —to the elation he felt when he’d realized that they’d managed to banish Heyerdahl to some nameless land. But this? This miraculous, unexpected, astonishing revelation about Jared? Jensen can hardly breathe, hardly think. His hands tremble as he closes the precious file, and they refuse to put it back into the cabinet, where it would sit anonymous and unheralded. Instead he clasps the file to his chest, dreaming of Jared’s reaction when Jensen tells him he feels the same, and trundles back across the hall to wait the interminable few hours left until morning.

*****

Jared smuggles in coffee, just as he did the morning before when he’d realized the medical staff were denying Jensen his lifeblood. He presents the cup with a flourish, and Jensen steadies it with both hands, the splint making for a bad grip.

Then, once Jensen’s taken his first sip and set it aside, Jared plunks down on the edge of his mattress with a bounce, watching Jensen’s face carefully. 

“No wincing,” Jared notes. “The ribs must be a lot better.” 

“Definitely.” Jensen grins at him. He may never stop grinning again. 

“What are you so happy about this morning?” Jared asks. “Are they releasing you?”

“I hope so,” Jensen replies. “Because I have something really, really important I realized I have to take care of.”

“Oh yeah?” Jared smiles indulgently. “What?”

“Well,” Jensen begins, easing Jared into it. “I may have done something slightly underhanded, but it’s for a good cause.”

“Sounds like you.”

“But last night I went across the hall and I found the file with the notes from your meetings with Dr. Rhodes. And I read them. And that’s what I’m so happy about this morning.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but he did know that it wasn’t for Jared to leap to his feet and stumble five feet back away from the bed as if Jensen had just announced he had Bubonic Plague.

“You—you didn’t. You can’t do that.”

“No, Jared. Listen, it’s okay.” He holds both palms out, pleadingly, the splint on his left hand a white flag of surrender before the tragic look on Jared’s face.

“It’s not okay.” Jared is shaken, and shaking. “Don’t you see, Jensen? You already know everything about me. I feel like there’s no part of me that isn’t yours. Wherever you go, you pull me along like the sun in my one-man solar system.” He bows his head, running both hands through his hair, gripping the roots like a lifeline before looking up again. “And it’s not that I ever want anything else. I don’t. When we played together at the Home, I never wanted any part other than to be your loyal sidekick. Or here, when they told me I’d have to stay away from you, it felt like, I don’t know, punishment, exile. Like being drawn-and-quartered, parts of me left behind.”

Jared’s emotions seem to work themselves open and bleed before Jensen’s eyes. He aches to stanch them, but he doesn’t know what bandages to use.

“But the same isn’t true for you, man. You’re Jensen Ackles. You walk into a room and hold everyone in the palm of your hand. I know that you never asked for it, that sometimes you hate it, but it’s who you are. And I have to share you with all of them. All your admirers.” He shrugs self-deprecatingly. “When you have them, you don’t need me. And I know you don’t feel the same way I do about that—” Jared waves at the perfidious files stashed next to the coffee on his bedside table, and his voice drops to a hollow register. “It just—it turns out there’s only so much I can share.”

“Jared—” Jensen starts, but he doesn’t know where to go from there. Doesn’t understand how Jared could know him so well and still could have missed how he’s the center of Jensen’s universe, too.

It doesn’t matter, Jared cuts him off anyway. “Let’s—let’s just pretend you never saw what I told Dr. Rhodes. Can we—we can go back to being best friends, right? I swear, the Swapping is done. Totally. I can control it, I swear. But—” Jensen can see Jared’s lip turn white, he’s biting it so hard, but with just that pause, he rushes onward. “—if you want another roommate. Or another Shield to pair with, I understand.” 

“Jared,” Jensen says again, this time it comes out sharp, angry. What the fuck? Another roommate? Another partner? Fuck that. This is the _opposite_ of how this was supposed to go. What happened to Jared throwing himself into Jensen’s arms? What happened to undying declarations of love fit for the purplest romance novel?

But before anything more can be said, the infirmary door opens abruptly and Dr. Sheppard walks in. Oblivious to the tension choking the air, he says, “Good morning, gentlemen,” and whips his stethoscope from around his neck. He looks pointedly at the coffee cup, but doesn’t say anything, just pushes past Jared and approaches Jensen’s bed. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Padalecki. I’m hoping to get Mr. Ackles here discharged sometime this morning.”

“Sure,” Jared mumbles, not looking at Jensen, still looking like he might weep. “See you later.”

Jensen calls, “No, Jared, wait!” But Jared turns tail and flees. Jensen’s instinct is to leap up and chase him down, doctor be damned, but he recalls the warning in Rhodes’ notes, that the official judgment is to keep the two of them separated. They’ve got a shitload of credit built up after this week, and Jensen wants to use that to make sure the restriction on them partnering is lifted for good. He can’t do anything that might jeopardize it. 

But that doesn’t stop him from snarling rudely at Sheppard, “You said the plan is to get me out of here? So get me out.”

*****

He’s not sure where to start looking, so Jensen first heads back to the dorm room to regroup. His phone is there, he can recruit some other students as a posse to help track Jared down. So it’s quite a shock to open the door and find Jared inside, throwing clothes into a duffle.

“Sorry,” Jared says, keeping his head down. “I got the green light to move back in for next semester, and I brought all my stuff back yesterday to surprise you.” He finally looks up, smiling weakly. “Surprise.” 

Jared zips the bag, hauling it up off the couch. “I’ll just get out of your way. Come back another time.”

And Jensen has had enough. In what is probably an unforgivable breach of propriety, Jensen takes his Power and rips the bag from Jared’s hand, lofting it across the room to land up in Jared’s bunk. He pushes Jared back and back, until he’s sitting in the desk chair, and _keeps_ him there. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jared roars, flexing his arms against invisible bonds.

“This is the only way I can get you to stop and listen to me!” Jensen shouts back. “Now shut up for one second so I can tell you that I want you too. Everything you said in that file, I feel the same.”

Jared’s chin goes up, stiff pride closing his face like a castle gate thundering down. “You don’t have to say that, Jensen. I’m okay just being friends. I’ve been okay with it for a long, long time. What I’m not interested in from you is a pity fuck.”

Jensen flinches. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Screw you.”

“Okay, so I’ll admit that _I’m_ the idiot. I’ve been in love with you forever and I’ve never said anything, because I thought you were straight. And because—because I thought you wouldn’t want me.”

Jared just sits there, silent, but his expression has shifted from mulish to guarded. It’s progress, however slight. _Okay, Jensen, man up_ , he thinks. Jared had been willing to lay himself out there in the infirmary. Even though Jensen sucks at sincere, he knows this may be his only chance to make this right. He starts pacing.

“Jared. I’m crazy for you. Only you. More than friends, as boyfriends, lovers, whatever. There’re so many things you don’t even know, things I’m not all that proud of, but they’re true just the same. Look, I was kind of sad we ended up with bunks here, because back in the Home, I used to love to just lie in the bed across from you and watch you sleep. I—I deliberately chase away girls I think you might have a crush on. I sit too close, I have to stop myself from touching you all the time. Hell,” Jensen feels his face flush, but in for a penny. “I steal your shirts out of the laundry bag just to smell them.”

“Um, ew?” 

“See? I’m obsessed! And then you moved out and I was completely miserable. And,” he says, gesturing out toward the quad, his voice rising again, “this thing with Heyerdahl happened. I was certain he’d kill you. And then you fucking threw yourself at him. I could have lost you completely! I can’t. I can’t lose you. So I think we should have sex.”

A startled laugh bursts out of Jared. “You were building a pretty good case there, man, but I think you rushed the ending.”

Jensen rubs the back of his neck, abashed, but tugging a thread of hope. “It’s the best I can do given the stress I’m under.”

Jared’s expression sobers again. “I want to believe. I do.”

“You can,” Jensen replies desperately. He doesn’t know what else to do, to say. He falls forward onto the floor, kneeling at Jared’s feet, his eyes never leaving Jared’s face. “I’m yours. I always have been.”

Jared’s eyes widen and Jensen realizes how suggestive the position they’re in is, Jensen’s shoulders practically between Jared’s spread knees. “Release me now, Jensen,” he demands in a low voice.

Dismayed that he’d actually forgotten he was holding Jared prisoner, Jensen swiftly drops the Power trapping Jared in the chair. The minute it’s gone, Jared surges up, grabbing a fistful of Jensen’s shirt and hauling him to his feet. Jared practically charges into him and together they stumble back against the wall. Then Jared’s hands are on Jensen’s face, his lips on Jensen’s lips, and it’s the kiss Jensen longed for since the minute he read those files. Hell, since forever.

It’s desperate from the start, as if they’re both making up for lost time. Wet, deep kissing, eager strokes of tongue. The tips of Jared’s fingers dig into the short hair behind Jensen’s ears and Jensen presses up into him, into the heat of Jared’s body, savoring his taste, being tasted in return. The barely-healed cut on Jensen’s mouth stings as Jared glides his tongue over it, and Jensen counters by biting down firmly on the swell of Jared’s lower lip. When Jared moans, the sound of it sends a bright trail of heat down Jensen’s spine, his heartbeat kicking up into his throat. 

Jensen breaks for a gasp of air, but immediately gets his mouth back on Jared, can’t stop, won’t, seeking to draw more sounds from him. He nuzzles along the edge of Jared’s jaw, down into the salty hollow of his throat, laving a line with the flat of his tongue right up Jared’s long neck, into the soft space behind his ear that makes him whimper sweetly and causes his hips to hitch. 

Jensen thrusts into Jared instinctively in response, seeking pressure, friction. He’s so hard already and Jared is, too. But the angle not quite right, Jared so goddamn tall.

Then Jared’s hands reach down to grip the backs of Jensen’s thighs and he _lifts_ , dragging Jensen’s legs apart and up to clamp around his waist. Jensen scrabbles desperately at the nape of Jared's neck, the splint on his hand scratching Jared’s skin. Jensen palms the flat of Jared’s shoulders and feels the muscles strain under his hands.

"Shit," Jensen hisses, "Jared, _shit_ ," and he tries to help take some of the weight with his Power, but he’s too frantic, too needy, breathless and squirming and strung out as Jared finds the perfect way to grind their erections together.

Jensen arches back against the wall, sensation bright along his nerves, and he can feel a warning sluice of precome spurting up out of his slit, wetting the inside of his boxers. No. He is so not ready to be done yet. “God, if you fucking make me come in my pants right now,” Jensen curses, “I will never forgive you.”

Jared freezes, sucking in a breath. The hands cupping Jensen’s ass pull away so that Jensen slides down to the floor. Jensen could kick himself.

“No, we’re good, you’re good, perfect,” he gasps, locking eyes with Jared. “It’s just—“ he knows the answer, but still blurts out, “It’s your first time, right?”

Jared was already flushed, panting with exertion, arousal, and a new wave of color paints his cheeks an even deeper red. He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t look away.

“We can take this slow,” Jensen explains, although it pains him just to say it, his dick throbbing with the pounding of his pulse.

“Fuck slow.” Jared’s voice is rough as gravel. And Jensen had thought he’d known all of the ways Jared sounded—morning, noon, and night. But this? This is new. “I want you now. I want all of you.”

He steps back in close and his hands start working determinedly at the buttons of Jensen’s shirt. He gets the fourth one undone, sliding his hands inside over Jensen’s belly and sides, and the muscles of Jensen’s stomach jump to the touch. Jared doesn’t linger there, just pops the button on Jensen’s fly, dives right past the waistband of Jensen's shorts, and tucks his fingers inside, working them down until the head of Jensen's cock leaves smears along the backs of his knuckles. 

Jensen rears up off the ground with a sharp cry and Jared, the fucker, laughs, leaning down to press his mouth to Jensen's again, little sucking kisses over and over at his lips. And all Jensen wants at that very moment is to throw himself face down on the bed, ass up, and let Jared plow into him right then, not a second more of waiting.

Instead, he sucks in a shuddering breath and shoves Jared a few steps backward, shrugging his open shirt off over his shoulders and pushing both jeans and underwear down to his thighs, then kicking them off. 

He straightens up to see Jared’s stock-still in the middle of the room, the look on his face like a starving man’s, and for some reason that settles Jensen a little. Enough to allow him to gather his Power and use it to ease the hem of Jared’s t-shirt upward, pulling it gently off over his head, letting it trail slowly down Jared’s naked chest until it drops to the floor. 

Unseen fingers unzip Jared’s jeans, and that big cock of his presses up inside his shorts into the open vee. 

“Okay?” Jensen asks quietly.

"Nngh," Jared replies. His head is hanging down, mouth slack, and God, Jensen wants to kiss him, wants to lick him all over, wants to fuck that mouth thoroughly with his tongue, with his _cock_ , leave it used and swollen. 

“Take them off for me.” They can play with Jensen’s Power another time—and there will be another time, God, yes—but right now he wants Jared’s full participation again. 

Jared obeys immediately, slipping out of the rest of his clothes, and retreating with tiny steps until the back of his knees hit Jensen’s bunk. Jensen steps forward and wraps an arm around Jared’s waist, guiding him down onto the mattress. There’s not much room, but that just means that there’s more skin touching. Jensen plants a knee on either side of Jared’s narrow hips and reaches out, running his right hand lightly up Jared’s flank. It's only the barest of touches, but it makes Jared jerk as if he's been shocked.

“Jensen,” Jared pleads, pushing his hips up so that the scorching heat of his cock slides along the underside of Jensen’s. His thigh muscles tense, and Jensen pushes back instinctively, hissing harsh through his teeth. Despite his best intentions, it looks like neither of them is going to last long, and Jensen really, really wants to come with Jared inside him. 

He rests his injured hand in the middle of Jared’s chest for balance and leans out to open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing out a condom and the slim black bottle of slick that he keeps there, tossing them onto the bed near Jared’s shoulder.

When he glances back, Jared’s face is shadowed, a thin furrow marring the space between his brows. Jensen doesn’t even need to ask. 

“Only for us,” Jensen assures him, reaching out to sweep the bangs off of Jared’s face. “Never anyone else. Never again.”

“Okay.” Jared closes his eyes and turns his face into Jensen’s caress. “Thank you.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” Jensen breathes, and curves down to take Jared’s mouth again, slow, soft kisses this time, lips snug and lingering, and the fire that had been sizzling in Jensen’s gut melts down into a thick, molten pool, seeping out through his veins to every extremity. 

He sits back up and grabs up the bottle of slick. “This is going to take me a second,” he tells Jared, who’s gazing up at him, eyes gorgeously hazy and kiss-fuddled.

Jensen pours some into his good hand and coats his fingers with it, then sits up a little, arching, reaching around behind to rub the cool liquid against his hole, quickly pressing in two fingers, hurrying to get himself ready. He pushes the lube in and out, stretching himself open, and the sound of it is filthy. He glances down at Jared with concern. There is no need for him to worry, though, as Jared eyes are glued to Jensen's face, and he’s reaching out to take hold of Jensen’s cock in his hand.

Jared's hand is massive, circling him easily. Jensen can feel it trembling slightly, but the strokes up and down Jensen's length are perfectly timed to the rhythm of Jensen working his fingers in his own ass, and on the upstroke Jared swipes his thumb across the head, catching at the slit.

"Jesus fuck." Helplessly, Jensen fucks up into the tunnel of Jared's fingers, then pushes back to drive a third finger into himself. Still tight, but it’s going to have to be enough.

"Like that? Does that feel good?" Jared’s voice wobbles, breathless. He’s shivering, legs flexing, hips twitching upward, even as he keeps steady pressure on Jensen’s cock. His other hand tightens below Jensen’s waist, holding onto the jut of his hipbone like a lifeline.

“Yeah,” Jensen groans. “Now grab the condom, okay?” 

Jensen sits back to give Jared room to tear open the package, watching avidly as he fumbles with it and starts to roll it on, taking a second to wonder if the thing will even _fit_ on him. But finally Jared’s covered to the root. Jensen pours more lube over him, smearing slickness up and down and grinning wickedly as Jared gasps out a melodious string of cursewords.

“Get ready,” Jensen warns, then shifts to line himself up with the fat tip of Jared’s cock and sinks down.

The burn is incredible. Jensen bites down on his lip to keep from shouting as he impales himself. He sees Jared’s struggling, too, his hands now both white-knuckle fisting the sheets at his sides, but he’s holding himself still, holding his breath, waiting for Jensen to move. Jensen eases up a half-inch then presses down farther, feeling himself open up around Jared to let him in, easing him deeper and deeper, advancing, until he feels the sweat coating his chest and he’s seated, the backs of his thighs flush with Jared’s skin, his entire body gloriously full and quaking. 

There’s a long pause where they simply stare at each other. Jensen’s got no words, but as he looks down he hopes Jared can read all the pleasure and gratitude and, yes, _love_ Jensen feels.

Then the entire room flips and suddenly Jensen’s on his back, looking up at himself. What had been a feeling of urgency and desire revs up threefold, as everything in Jared’s body is buzzing, shocky, twisted tighter than a coiled spring. Jensen can feel the throbbing grip around his-- _Jared’s_ \-- dick, and he thrusts Jared’s hips up involuntarily. 

“Jesus, Jared,” he cries up into his own shocked features. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so—“ Jensen sees his eyes squeeze shut.

Then he flips again, back upright, and the thick pressure of Jared seated deep inside him is back, feels right.

“—sorry.” Jared’s face now wears the exact stricken expression Jensen had just seen on his own. He looks like he’s about to cry.

This is absolutely no time for that. Jensen shakes his head, his voice light. “Leave it to you to give a whole new meaning to switching,” he teases. “But we have orgasms to take care of, so let’s focus on that, okay?”

Jared nods carefully, and Jensen starts moving. 

He lets Jared’s cock drag slowly in and out of him, circling on the way down and watches Jared suck in a shuddering breath. His own breath catches when he finds the spot that sends a jolt up his spine and lights behind his eyes. Again and again he rocks his hips just so, then faster, his breath starting to come in sobs. He’s got both hands braced on Jared’s chest now, and he strums his thumbs over the taut little points of Jared’s nipples, causing Jared to nearly buck him off as he arches up off the bed, coming sudden as a thunderclap. Jensen can feel the pulse of his release even through the condom, his hands dragging Jensen’s hips down harder and harder as he jerks and plunges. 

“Touch me,” Jensen begs, so close, just a moment behind, and when Jared promptly gets a firm, hot fist around him, and that’s all it takes. Ecstasy takes root where he and Jared are joined and rips through him in jagged waves of heat. Jensen shouts, his eyes squeezing shut, and then he’s spasming out wet white pulses, over Jared's fingers and onto his belly, some splashing all the way up to his pecs. It's a thick, hot mess but Jared just keeps stroking, milking it out of Jensen until he has to grab Jared’s hand in his own, stopping him, gasping for breath.

He collapses down onto the smear of come and sweat and they are both so gross, but it doesn’t matter because Jared’s chest is heaving under him. He’s mindlessly whispering, “Thank you, thank you, god, Jensen,” into Jensen’s ear and the sound of it entwines with the buzz of orgasm that’s humming along every nerve, out to his numb fingers and toes. 

Jensen’s legs start to cramp, so he carefully pulls himself off, maneuvering in the tiny space to help Jared remove the condom and then uses a tiny burst of Power to send it over to the trashcan. He tries, but he can’t even muster enough additional strength to draw a towel over to them, he’s so wrung out, but he figures they can clean off more traditionally in a minute. Or later. Or never, Jensen doesn’t care.

Jared turns his head toward Jensen, his hair falling across his face. He's beautiful like this, all fucked out and languid, eyes heavy-lidded, dimples deeply denting his smooth cheek. It reinforces Jensen’s opinion that they should just stay like this all day. Jared’s lips twitch as he says, “Did you actually call me ‘sweetheart?’”

Jensen chuckles in surprise. That wasn’t the first thing he was expecting to hear, or even the tenth. “Well, if the size 13 shoe fits, Cinderella,” he smirks.

Jared swiftly grabs him behind the neck and reels him in, and they make out for long, slow minutes, Jared propped on his elbow hovering over Jensen, tongues moving lazy and deep.

When Jared finally falls back onto the pillow, Jensen waits for a minute, but then draws a deep breath in and fires back with a different unexpected question, one that’s been weighing on him. “You were going to go with Heyerdahl through the portal that day, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. I was.”

Jensen sits up in turn, but just so he can look Jared in the eye, make himself perfectly clear. “I forbid you to do anything like that ever again. Do you hear me? I’ve lived without you for the past three months, and I refuse to do it ever again.”

Jared searches his face with spotlight intensity. Then a wide grin breaks across his face. “I will if you stop walking around with a big-ass target on your back.”

Jensen can’t help grinning back. “Are you maligning my ass?”

“It’s a fantastic ass.”

“It’s a _sore_ ass,” Jensen jokes, falling back down to snuggle into Jared’s chest. He can’t help it if he’s a snuggler. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he hears Jared rumble. Jared’s right arm comes up to wrap over Jensen’s shoulder, his hand spread wide between Jensen’s shoulder blades, folding him closer. Jensen would’ve won good money betting that Jared would be a cuddler, too.

“Damn straight you’ll make it up to me. Frequently. All break.”

A hand comes up to scritch the back of Jensen’s neck, soothing over the curve of his skull, petting through his hair. Jensen is three seconds away from starting to purr. 

“Only during break?” Jared teases. 

“Forever,” Jensen pledges, and Jared’s hand stills. The word hangs between them, drumming like the beat of Jared’s heart in his ear. So Jensen repeats it, low and firm. “Forever.” And that may just sound like pillow-talk, but he means it. He closes his eyes and swears he will make Jared truly believe that he means it.

They lay there quietly for a long time, bodies entwined, and Jensen feels closer to Jared now than he ever did during a Swap. Despite the morning light streaming through the dorm room window, he thinks he might just drift off to sleep. He reminds himself to get the box with their Christmas tree in it out of storage when he wakes up. That’s when he hears Jared whisper softly, “We’re going to change the world together, aren’t we?”

And Jensen whispers back, “We already have.”

 

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my beloved __tiana__ for the spn_j2_xmas exchange. Title from a song by R.E.M. Thanks to my champ, untitleddemo, for all the beta advice and for being there for me, and to bertee for her heroic modding work.


End file.
